


A Confession To Set You Free

by big_slug



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst, Execution, Homophobia, Homophobic laws, Hopeful Ending, Interrogation, Letters, M/M, Physical Abuse, Police Brutality, Prison, Psychological Torture, Solitary Confinement, Torture, Totalitarian United States, forced confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_slug/pseuds/big_slug
Summary: It seemed that there was no place in this country for people like Mike Wheeler and Will Byers. Maybe they were not meant to be happy. But if Mike could help it, he would not betray the love of his life. And perhaps he was bound to lose. But Agent Brenner would not win.In a dystopian parallel universe, Mike Wheeler and Will Byers are charged with sodomy.
Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 8
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I really don't know what happened here. This is very high up there on the list of tough fics I've written, and if you're sensitive to homophobia, torture and the idea of fascist governments, you might want to skip this. You've been warned!  
> Not beta-read.

„It is May 10th, 1986. Interrogation protocol of Michael Theodore Wheeler, born January 12th, 1971. Also present in the room are Special Agent Martin Brenner of the Federal Morality Agency acting as lead interrogator, as well as James Hopper, chief of police for Roane County. Please note that Mr. Hopper remains in the room upon his own insistence. He will not interfere with the interrogation in any way.“

Mike couldn‘t see. The voice speaking was unfamiliar to him, and the halo of the halogen spotlight stung in his eyes, forcing him to squint against the heat emitting from it. The room was otherwise dark, and the only sound was the whirring of a tape recorder. He didn‘t know how long they had kept him in the windowless cell - if he had to guess he would say it had been two or three days. Since Mike hadn‘t been able to sleep, though, that estimate might have been way off. „C-Could I... have something to drink?“ he requested meekly. By that way he was admitting that they were getting to him. But Mike couldn‘t help it, he was dehydrated.

The cold voice that had made the initial announcement (Special Agent Brenner?), answered in an amused tone „There is a glass of water on the table in front of you. You may drink, Michael.“

The chains on his handcuffs rattled as Mike blindly reached out. He almost tipped the glass over, some of the water spilling across his hands. But once he got a firm grasp on it, he gulped all of it down in one drag. Now, that his eyes were beginning to adjust to the light, he could make out a silhouette at the table opposite to him. A thin man sitting upright with his hands neatly folded on the metal table. „Do my-“

„You will answer my questions truthfully. You will not speak unless spoken to. Do you understand?“

„Please...“ it escaped Mike, in complete disregard for Brenner‘s rules. „Do I need a lawyer?“ It was a pointless question, really. But Mike had the hope that he just might get to see someone who wouldn‘t try to break him. Someone who might help him get through this. For however long they had kept him in that black cell with no lights or windows, his thoughts had been going haywire. Only once or twice he asked himself who ratted him out. For the most part, though, his minds circled around _mom_ and _home_. He wouldn‘t be going home any time soon.

There was a low chuckle coming from the man in front of Mike as he leaned forwards. „Regardless of what you need, you are being held under the Depravity Prevention and Punishment Act of 1973. So I am awfully sorry, Michael, but we could not ask an upstanding man of the law to get involved with... the likes of you. Your family has been notified of the charges against you, and let me tell you, your behavior in this room will reflect on them. Particularly on your father, who has made it very clear that you are to cooperate.“

It might have been dehydration, or sleep deprivation, or a mix of both, but Mike hardly registered Brenner‘s words, as he was now on the lookout for Chief Hopper. If he had any friends left in this world, surely the chief was one of them. After all, by arresting Mike he had just done his job, and he hadn‘t seemed happy about it.

„Focus on me, Michael. As much as I would enjoy explaining all the technicalities of your predicament, I have a job to do, and we should begin now. Don‘t you agree?“

„Y-Yes. Okay.“ Mike was dangerously close to sobbing, calling out for his mother to come save him. But what could she do? What could anyone do?

„Very well.“ said Agent Brenner. „Then tell me Michael... exactly of what nature is your relationship with William Byers?“

* * *

For a while he had tried counting the seconds. Anything to keep his brain going, to keep track of time, but it was really no use. The longer he tried, the more he found himself losing his rhythm, and soon Mike couldn‘t be sure if a second in his head still corresponded with a second outside of the little black room he was lying in. A rubber mat on the tiled floor, a drain in the middle of the cell, that was all he got.

From what he could tell, other inmates at the county jail weren‘t subjected to this sort of treatment. They had orange overalls, while Mike‘s was red. They got to talk to each other for a few hours a day. They got to see sunlight, or really _any light_. All while Mike didn‘t even know if he had slept a second since they took him away from home.

_Will... did they take Will, too...? And who was it? Who reported them to the FMA? No one knew of their relationship._

Mike‘s mind was beginning to play tricks on him. It made him see shapes and colors in the dark, kaleidoscopic symmetry and movement - quite beautiful, had he seen these things somewhere else. And the noise... the noise was driving him mad, even though it was almost inaudible. Just gentle little taps.

_Tap... tap... tap tap... tap... tap tap..._

Mike, pressing his palms on his ears, let out a sob. It was hopeless, wasn‘t it? Whoever reported them was now about ten grand wealthier, while Mike - and possibly Will - would never see the light of day again.

_Tap... tap..._

That was an M. The letter broke through the imaginary light show, pulsing golden in the blackness of Mike‘s cell. Involuntarily, Mike bit his thumb painfully and started listening.

_Tap tap..._

An I appeared next to the M.

_Tap... tap tap..._

Then a K.

_Tap..._

And finally, an E. Mike stared at his own name visualized in bold, shining letters hovering in the air. „Will...“ he breathed as he shot up. The message repeated itself, so Mike had no trouble locating its origin. As his hand blindly reached for it, he found a metal pipe near the ceiling, vibrating his name in Morse code. And still, it repeated itself, until Mike began frantically knocking at the pipe with the knuckles of his hand.

He waited for the echo to die down, and once there was silence, Mike sent out his own message. Just Will‘s name, three times. _Will_... _Will... Will..._

Of course he should have been worried about someone else listening, but Mike could not make himself care. Will was here... It was a mix of heavenly relief and utter defeat. If Will was here, they were done for. But at least now they could talk. Another message came back.

_b... strong... love... u..._

As Mike listened, he couldn‘t hold on anymore. They would kill him. And Will. Mike could already picture it, their stoic faces live on TV for their families to see, as watching the executions was mandatory for every citizen. Would he walk to the gallows with dignity? Or would they have to drag him, kicking and screaming, like that poor kid from Lafayette a few months ago?

* * *

„Michael... Everything, I mean really everything could be so easy. But alas, you are a stubborn one.“ Agent Brenner‘s disapproval seemed to be feigned, and perhaps he was enjoying this. No, scratch that; Brenner was _definitely_ enjoying it. Because he had a sick mind, and because no one could stop him.

Not even Chief Hopper. Mike didn‘t know why the chief still insisted on being present for the interrogations. All he did was stand in the corner, a gray shape against the black wall, unable to do anything but watch. Sometimes Mike could see the glowing orange dot that was Hopper‘s cigarette. He was feeling naked, now that his hair lay in black tufts on the ground around the chair he was strapped to. They hadn‘t been gentle with him, and the clippers had nicked his scalp in many spots.

„I don‘t know...“ Mike heaved „...what you want me to do. Please, just...“

„Answer the question! Answer the question, or bear the consequences. Michael Theodore Wheeler, are you a homosexual?“

„No!“ Mike cried. „No! I‘m not!“ It felt like he was betraying Will, like he was betraying himself, but if there was the slightest chance for him to live, lying would get him there.

„And have you ever committed acts of homosexual depravity? Think carefully before you answer. You are on thin ice, Michael.“

Mike tried to make a show of it. Getting more and more angry, tugging on his chains like he would if he were innocent. „I never did!“ he spat. „I‘m not... one of _those people_.“

„Well...“ Agent Brenner took a long, deep drag from his water bottle. He was a frightening man, even when he tried to put on a fatherly voice, like he did right now. „Personally I wouldn‘t judge you. I mean, Michael, we‘re all just human. Moments of weakness are nothing... nothing to be ashamed of. You‘re from a good family, and I do believe you when you tell me you‘re not a homosexual. William Byers on the other hand-“

„He‘s just a _friend!_ “ Mike growled.

Brenner nodded slowly. „Yes, you have told me that before. But think of it this way, Michael; If there had been any acts of sodomy committed between the two of you, it surely would have been by William‘s initiative. Is it any surprise that a boy with his background turned out a pervert?“

„What do you want from me? What do you want me to say?“

„Oh, you don‘t have to say anything.“ Brenner chuckled. He was sounding so sure of himself that Mike was beginning to think that everything would end tonight. Or whatever time of day it was right now. From his folder, Brenner almost lovingly pulled a sheet of paper. „You just have to sign something. This little confession right here. William Byers seduced you, didn‘t he? He forced himself on you. Michael Wheeler, a young, innocent, sheltered boy who had no way of defending himself. A boy who could still become a valuable member of society... through a lengthy re-education process. Think about it. A year or two of hard labor and you‘d be free to go.“

So here they were. Will‘s life for Mike‘s. Brenner hadn‘t even been lying when he said that this could be all so easy. There was a little voice inside of his head that said _„Sign it! Sign it and you get to hug your mom again!“_. But there also was this other voice that said _„Sign it and they‘re going to hang Will. You love him. Do you want his blood on your hands?“_

Mike looked at Brenner with as much disdain as he could muster. „I never did anything wrong. And Will didn‘t either.“

„That‘s... a shame.“ Brenner sighed. „Chief Hopper?“

„Yes, sir?“ Hopper‘s voice was controlled, but at least Mike imagined to hear some hate hidden in there.

„Michael needs some time to think about my offer. Oh and... he‘s beginning to smell, you might want to give him a bath.“

Not five minutes later, Mike was writhing on the tiled floor of his cell, mercilessly sprayed with icy water from a hose, and it only stopped when Brenner got bored of it and told the chief to stop. Hopper waited for the agent to be out of hearing distance. „I‘m sorry, kid. Just... hang in there and don‘t sign anything. I‘m figuring something out.“

* * *

Communicating via Morse code was tedious. Transmitting a sentence took an eternity, but that wasn‘t so bad, because otherwise there was only darkness. Mike informed Will about Brenner‘s offer later, after he had peeled himself out of his soaking wet overall to get some relief from the cold.

_He... told... me... to... sign. Wanted... me... to... tell... them... it... is... your... fault._

Why wasn‘t Mike surprised when Will‘s answer turned out very similar?

_They... say... I... get... to... live. If... I... blame... you_.

Mike had to deduce that Brenner didn‘t give two shits about _good families_ , like the Wheelers. This was just a game of who would break first. Because whoever was the first one to sign the confession would be the one to live. And when Mike took a while to reflect on his life, more and more he came to believe that it should be Will. He had a loving family to return to. Two people who needed him so much that losing him might kill them.

But Mike? If he were to sign, it would only be to save his father‘s career. A career that he couldn‘t care less about. If anything Mike would want to take the blame out of spite for his father, just to fuck him up and make him a persona non grata in every circle of society except the lowest of the low. Mike bit his lip. Then, he began to tap the pipe again.

_Did... you... speak... to... Hopper?_

There were a few moments of silence. Mike feared they had taken Will for interrogation again, but he answered eventually.

_Yes. He... said... do... not... sign._ _Must... be... strong._

Perhaps it was too early for that, but Mike felt like he needed to make sure to let Will know that it was okay to give up.

_If... you... can... not... stand... it... that... is... OK. I... am... not... mad. Love... you._

The answer didn‘t contain any words. Just frantic, _angry_ blows to the pipe. Mike figured he would have been enraged too, so he allowed Will some time to calm down. Finally, a transmission of words.

_Fuck... you. Love... you... too... much. Never... give... up. Now... sleep._

Mike gave back a simple _OK_ , not knowing what else he was supposed to say. But he knew he was stronger than Will. He knew he could last longer, he just had to. And when Will finally cracked (hopefully very soon), that would be the end of Mike Wheeler. But Will would live. Mike had found a mantra to get him through this. _Will must live. Will must live. He must live._

He repeated it over and over. Maybe for hours, maybe for days. Who could tell in a place like this, where there was no light, no sound, where everything was dark and cold? It was a place built just for one purpose: To break people. But Mike wouldn‘t be one of them. _Will must live._

* * *

„Over there, Wheeler. They‘re waiting for you.“

Whatever was coming, Mike knew it couldn‘t be good. Nothing that happened in this place was ever good. Not the interrogations. Not the hose. Not the beatings. _Nothing_. So Mike didn‘t even ask _who_ was waiting. He would find out soon enough, and soon enough he would feel more pain.

But today‘s pain... Mike realized it would be different when he spotted his mother. And of course, his father was there too. „Michael!“ she screeched, but before she could get a chance to throw herself at him, an officer held her back.

„No physical contact.“ he said coldly. „Sit down.“ For once, the interrogation room was evenly lit by an overhead lamp, without any spotlights shining directly into Mike‘s eyes. It was cold light, though, and the room was cold anyways, so he shivered as they went through their usual process of strapping him to the chair, all while he could hear his mother weeping. There was no word from his father, though.

The officers left them alone, but Mike knew they were listening. „How long...“ he started.

„You‘ve been here for a month.“ his father said in an icy voice. „And it‘s enough now, Michael. Don‘t be so stubborn.“

„Ted!“ mom cried. „Stop it! Don‘t talk to your son that way!“

„Mom... why... why are you here?“ Mike‘s vision was blurring over in intervals, and he felt as though he was about to pass out.

„We‘re here to... honey, what do you mean? We‘re you‘re _parents!_ They told us this morning we could come see you!“ Her hands were clutching the table, and from what Mike could tell, she looked more than a little disheveled. He had never seen his mother‘s hair so messy. His father was in a suit, though, perfectly tailored and immaculate.

„We‘re here to tell you to knock it off. You could have been out of here weeks ago, Michael. All of this... was so unnecessary.“

„I don‘t understand...“ Mike sobbed. Now, with his mother here, it was impossible to stay firm. „What do you mean?“

„Honey...“ mom said. „Special Agent Brenner is not your enemy. He wants to help you, but you have to let him.“

Her words hit Mike harder than any spray of ice water, or any punch to the stomach he had endured in the last month. Even his own mother wanted him to betray Will. „No... no, mom, he‘s-“

„Just think of it, Michael.“ dad continued. „Your life is not over if you cooperate now. My status grants me some leeway and Agent Brenner was even kind enough to alter the offer. You could sign the confession today and be on your way to a reform school in New York within a few hours.“

Mike didn‘t know what to say to that. Or he did know, but his idea of a response contained too many profanities to say it out loud in front of his mom.

„It‘s a one time offer, Michael.“ she went on, now barely hanging on to her composure. „You‘d have to sign the confession right now.“

Dad nodded. „If you pass on this and have a change of heart tomorrow, the offer is gone and you‘ll be looking at two years in a labor camp.“

„I... won‘t...“ Mike pressed out. „I won‘t sign. Give Will that offer and I promise he‘ll confess.“

„Michael!“ his father boomed so suddenly that even mom recoiled from him. „Do you have any idea what you‘re doing to your sisters? Your entire family? If not, let me break it down for you. There will be no future for Nancy at any university in the country with a convicted homosexual for a brother. No private school for Holly.“

„Oh, and don‘t forget about your career, right? Just... get out of here, dad. I won‘t sign _shit_.“ Mike spat. He was sorry for his mom, who collapsed on the floor, crying. But it felt good to see his dad‘s life go down the drain. As for Nancy and Holly, they would tell Mike to stay strong, no matter the consequences. He knew that for a fact.

* * *

Brenner made it very clear that Mike would never see his parents again if he didn‘t confess. The agent was becoming more hostile with each interrogation that passed without a satisfying result, and he visibly enjoyed telling Mike this. But not as much as he enjoyed ordering his henchmen to do things to Mike. Things that, slowly but surely, were beating his mantra out of him. _Will must live. Will must live. Will must live._ Whenever Chief Hopper got a chance, he tried to reassure Mike that there was hope - but Mike found it harder and harder to believe every day.

In the dark, he couldn‘t tell whether he was asleep or awake. He couldn‘t tell how much time passed between interrogations. Had it been two weeks since he had seen his parents? Or six? Mike palmed the short stubble of hair they had left him with, wondering if he would ever know how long it had been. But if there was a plan forming in his mind, it was ripped apart brutally by the most horrifying scream Mike had ever heard in his life.

It was high, wailing, echoing through the hall, reverberating from the other cells. And it was Will. Mike would recognize it anywhere, even after a hundred years apart, so there was no doubt. He could feel the pain deep in his chest as he scrambled to his feet. He never would have thought that, after all those weeks, a scream would be the first thing he would hear from Will. Maybe it was stupid, but Mike screamed as well. „Will! Will, I‘m here! Will... listen to me!“

The response was another cry, even higher than the first one. „Mike!“

„I‘m here! I‘m here!“ Mike was wrecking his lungs, but he knew he had it in him to finally convince Will. „Give them what they want! Just sign it! Will, sign the confession!“

_Will must live. He must live_. Mike told himself this again and again. If he was hoping for a response, though, he didn‘t get it. Just more screaming. He banged against the metal door of his cell, threw his entire body against it until every bruise on his body pained him tenfold. And he cried out for Will for as long as he was physically able to. „Will! Please just do it! I love you! Do what they want!“

* * *

„It‘s your turn now.“ came the cold voice of Agent Brenner through the first crack in the cell door as it opened. „Chief, get him out of there.“ From all the screaming and thrashing, Mike was too exhausted to even walk. As Chief Hopper dragged him down the dark hall to the interrogation room, he felt that he wouldn‘t be able to stand this much longer. If Will hadn‘t confessed, Mike just might.

But then the words came back to him. _Will must live. Will must live_. And he picked himself up and walked the final few yards on his own two feet, and Mike felt a sense of pride in his chest. They wouldn‘t win. They could not win. When he saw the blood on the floor by the chair, he didn‘t even flinch.

„You know, Michael, it really is a shame that we have to resort to this kind of measure.“ Brenner sighed deeply, almost as if he didn‘t enjoy this. By now, though, Mike was sure that he and Will were just entertainment for Brenner. An experiment, maybe. „Everyone leave the room. You too, chief.“

As soon as Mike was chained firmly to the chair again, the officers and even Chief Hopper left him there with Brenner. The pre-written confession was again lying on the table, with a chrome-shining fountain pen next to it, but since Mike‘s arms were tied to the chair as well, there was no way for him to sign either way.

„You make me sick.“ Agent Brenner whispered. „You specifically, Michael. But also your kind. All you degenerates, undermining this great country, poisoning our children, taking a _shit_ on the morals we have spent centuries defending. Oh, I heard you, Michael. When I hurt your so called _friend_ , I heard you.“ Instead of sitting in his usual, dignified pose opposite to Mike, Brenner was now strolling back and forth in the little room, circling him. He came to a stop behind Mike to whisper in his ear. „You don‘t love him. And he doesn‘t love you. And you know, with the right kind of persuasion, I can make you hand him over to the executioner. Just more proof that your kind is treacherous by nature.“

„No...“

„Oh yes. I bet I could get you to pull the lever yourself, Michael.“ Brenner came around once more, squatting down in front of Mike. „That face. So stubborn and proud. Just like William before I pulled out his fingernails one by one. He cried for his mother, you know. So what do you say, Michael? Five today, five tomorrow, so you have something to look forward to? And then we‘ll talk again about that confession.“

If Brenner was right about anything, then it was Mike‘s pride. When the agent clasped a pair of pincers around the nail of his right pinkie, and when he started to pull, Mike‘s pride bloomed. And it continued to do so until he finally couldn‘t bite his tongue anymore. All of it was gone as soon as Mike started screaming.

From somewhere far away, a response came. In a full role-reversal, Will screamed as well, urging Mike to give up. To just sign the confession and get it over with. But every time Mike‘s gaze found the inviting sparkle of the chrome pen, he shook his head. Because _Will had to live_.

* * *

Will was silent. No subtle tapping on the pipe tonight. And Mike didn‘t try to get in touch, as his right hand was shaking, bleeding, not obeying a single command. He barely got a good look at it, and the eerie dark red spots where his fingernails used to be, before they had thrown him in his cell again. He had thrown up, and not all of his had gone down the drain, so he‘d have to live with the smell until his next round with the hose.

It looked like that wasn‘t too far away, because footsteps could be heard out in the hall. Usually Mike would stand up, defiantly stare Brenner in the eyes until Chief Hopper would sigh and start the water, but he didn‘t have it in him this time. Maybe he could try to get some water in his lungs and drown?

The heavy footsteps were hurried, though. Even frantic, and when the door creaked open, dim light from the hall hurting Mike‘s eyes, Chief Hopper was alone. „Kid, we don‘t have much time.“ he said before Mike could ask what was going on. „It‘ll be all over soon, but you have to make a decision.“

„What do you-“

„Shut the fuck up and listen! I know you can see through Brenner. You know why he does what he does. Not because it‘s the law, but because he wants you to turn against each other. One of you throwing the other in front of the train. And he won‘t give up until one of you breaks.“

„I know.“ Mike curled up further on his rubber mat. „But what am I supposed to do?“

„He confessed.“ Hopper sighed. „The Byers boy confessed.“

„He did?“ There was a sudden surge of energy hitting Mike full force, enough for him to get up and stand up straight. He knew what that meant. _Will would live. Will would live!_ And Mike, now officially the seducer of this innocent boy, would die. Nothing else mattered, so he threw himself at Chief Hopper, pressed his face into the man‘s uniform and sobbed out his relief. „He‘s gonna be okay!“

„No, you don‘t get it!“ Hopper grunted impatiently. „He didn‘t sign Brenner‘s confession. Byers wrote his own. He‘s taking the blame.“

„W-What?“

„I have it right here.“ The chief put a hand on his shirt pocket. „Byers admits that it was all his fault. He‘s gonna hang, you‘re gonna walk free. So again, kid, you have to make a decision, and you have to make it now.“

„A... decision...“ Mike had forgotten the meaning of that word. He had suddenly forgotten _everything_ , except one simple fact: _Will was sacrificing himself._ There was nothing left in Mike‘s stomach. If there was, he would have thrown it up by now. And that last bit of hope in his heart was also gone. What was this place that didn‘t allow two people to be happy together?

„Focus!“ Hopper bellowed. „Your decision: Do you want to let him die for you? Spend the next two years at a labor camp in Alaska for the slim chance that you survive that hell? Or do you want to stick the finger to Brenner and prove once and for all that you‘re not the degenerate he sees in you? Trust me kid, you wouldn‘t last a year in Alaska. There‘s an easier way out.“

„What... what do I have to do?“ It really wasn‘t a decision. Mike‘s back was against the wall, but if there was a chance for a tiny little victory against Brenner and the FMA, he would take it.

„You have to write.“ Hopper said as he handed Mike a piece of paper and a pen. „Think you‘ll be able to with that hand of yours?“

„I‘ll have to.“ Mike nodded. He had to kneel down on the floor, let the light from the hall guide his aching, bleeding fingers. The chief gave him hints for his choice of words. And when Mike was done, the writing was ugly, interrupted by blood stains. But it was readable;

_I confess that I have committed acts of homosexual sodomy with William Byers. I confess that I am a homosexual, and that I have no intention of seeking treatment for this condition. I confess that I broke the law by my own free will, fully aware of the consequences I am going to bear._

Mike signed his full name under the document and handed it to the tall man. „Can you tell my mom I‘m sorry? A-And tell my dad I‘m not sorry.“

„I‘ll tell them.“ Chief Hopper said. „You know, kid, he can be ashamed all he wants. But me? I‘m proud of you. Just remember to keep your head up high, and when you get the chance, speak your fucking mind. The worst of it is already behind you.“

* * *

The final hours (days? weeks?) in the cell went by easier, now that Mike knew things were finally coming to an end. He even got to communicate with Will again. Will, who had defeated Brenner all on his own, who had been so strong and brilliant enough to find the way out. Mike would be happy to just hear his voice one more time. Not as a painful cry, but as the sweet and gentle sound it turned into for every love confession they had ever shared.

He was pretty sure they would get a chance for that, because when they showed the executions live on TV, they would usually do several at once. Maybe they would get to go right next to each other? And maybe they would transport them together. Everyone knew Indiana‘s central execution site was located in Fort Wayne, at least three hours by car from Roane County.

Mike figured he would find out soon enough, as in the distance a heavy door clashed with a wall. He scrambled to his feet, urgently reaching for the pipe one final time. He tapped his knuckles frantically against it.

.-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..- / ..-. --- .-. . ...- . .-.

  
And then Chief Hopper was back, with a solemnly prideful expression. „Come with me, kid.“

Mike was feeling so light, floating on a cloud down the hall that didn‘t scare him anymore. Was this acceptance? Whatever it was, it felt like taking a breath of fresh air. Special Agent Brenner was there, but even the look of contempt on the man‘s face couldn‘t scare Mike. „You could have lived, Michael. And you could have spared yourself all that pain.“

„No. That‘s just not true.“ Mike said. „I think it was always going to turn out like this.“ Was he smiling? He had long forgotten what that felt like, but as his face strained, the memory slowly came back to him.

Brenner answered by delivering an earth-shattering blow with his fist to Mike‘s stomach. „One for the way.“ he spat. „Chief, get this degenerate ready for the transport. I‘ll go wash his stench off of me.“

„Yes, sir. I‘ll take Powell along for the drive, if you don‘t need him here.“

„No, it‘s alright. Take whoever you want. You won‘t be seeing me here again for a while, I hope. Two perverts are enough for one county, don‘t you think?“ Brenner left, and Mike knew he‘d never see that man again.

Hopper went ahead and did what he had to do. Minutes later, cuffed on wrists and ankles and with a black hood covering his face, Mike was guided into a large room where every step, every rattling of the chains, echoes loudly. A garage. And in that garage, a van. Perhaps the same that had brought Mike here. He had to climb in, sit down on the narrow bench, and let Hopper strap him in. „It‘ll be about three hours, kid.“

„Yeah. Okay.“ Mike said. Three more hours in the dark didn‘t sound too bad to him now, so he got as comfortable as he could and tried not to breathe through his mouth so much, because it was getting awfully warm under that hood.

Pretty soon, perhaps just ten minutes later, he got what he had been hoping for the most. The back door of the van opened again. More rattling of chains, some light breathing. Mike didn‘t dare make a sound, but even with the hood making him blind, he could tell they were putting in someone else. Again, Hopper muttered „Three hours.“

The door slammed. And Mike didn‘t dare speak. He didn‘t dare make a sound for what seemed like minutes. Instead he listened to the slow and steady breaths of the other person right opposite to him. He knew the sound of those breaths. Mike had heard and felt it against his neck many times, all moist and warm, fast asleep and peaceful.

„M-Mike? Is that you?“

„Will?“ Mike squealed through his dry throat. „It‘s me.“

Both of them knew fighting was no use, but simultaneously they began tugging on their chains, desperately trying to reach each other. And they kept trying, however futile it may have been. „I love you! Mike, I love you so much!“ Will was crying. „I‘m sorry I couldn‘t sign! I know you wanted me to, but I love you!“

„He knew! He-“ Mike cried back, but paused when the van‘s engine was started. They were beginning to move. „He didn‘t break us, okay? I‘m so proud, Will! I love you too!“ There was no way they could actually touch each other like they desperately wanted to, but at some point they found out they could mingle their legs together, and that was better than nothing.

„You were so brave, Mike.“ Lovingly, Will tangled his legs with Mike‘s. „But why didn‘t you just take your freedom when I took the blame?“

„That was wishful thinking.“ Mike sighed. „I don‘t think there was anything to take. Just... just more pain. I don‘t want to die slowly.“

Every turn the van took threw the two into their chains painfully, so much so that Mike hoped they would reach the interstate soon. Will clacked his tongue, and until now Mike hadn‘t realized how much he‘d missed that sound. „You know, maybe there‘s a bright side. Remember my birthday? You said we‘d be together for the rest of our lives. Technically true, huh?“

„Technically.“ Mike said wryly. „If we have to go, we go together, huh?“

„Always together.“ Will breathed. „Do you- do you think our families got some sort of notice?“

„I don‘t know... but they‘ll get to see us on TV later on. I- I don‘t like to think about it. Did they let them visit you? I got to see my parents once, but my mom was just crying and my dad was yelling at me to sign the confession.“

„No, I didn‘t have any visits.“ Will shifted on the bench, pulling Mike‘s legs closer. „But Chief Hopper brought me messages from my mom. Like, _stay strong_. And _I love you_. She couldn‘t do anything, and now...“

_Now she‘ll have to watch you die as a convicted degenerate on national TV_. Mike obviously didn‘t say that. Because it was the most painful, unspeakable aspect to all of this. „We have to show them what we‘re made of, Will. Show them that we‘re not sorry, and that we did nothing wrong.“

„We‘re gonna make some noise, huh, Mikey?“

„You bet. And no one watching TV tonight is ever gonna forget us. That‘s a promise.“

„Promise.“ Will repeated. „They‘ll all know how much I love you.“ And Mike was so, _so_ glad they were doing this together.

* * *

„Do you think we‘ll be there soon?“ Will wondered. It had been an eternity, most of it definitely spent on the interstate. No turns or stops, just the van going in a straight line. But a while ago, they had taken an exit to more rural roads, and again Mike and Will were tossed about on every turn.

„I think so.“ Mike answered. He had gotten more and more aware over the course of the last few hours. Knowing that these were the final moments of his life had an effect on all of his senses, even his vision that was showing him colors again in the blackness of the hood. „We‘ll walk on our own two feet. We won‘t resist, but we‘ll be _loud_.“

„Loud.“ Will almost laughed. „Yeah, okay. You know, ever since we... we first kissed... I thought we‘re above average. Better at hiding than the rest.“

The van had rolled to a stop several times before, possibly for stop signs. But this time, it didn‘t start moving again. It was just standing there, and at some point the engine cut out. And still, Mike wasn‘t afraid. „If this is it... you know that I love you, right?“

„You‘ve told me. Many times.“ Will said softly. „And I love you.“

Mike wondered - meaning he was actually curious - how much it would hurt. Having your neck broken by a a thick rope didn‘t sound like the worst thing that could happen to him now. Not the best, but certainly not the worst.

„Here we are.“ Chief Hopper‘s voice boomed as soon as the rear door opened. Will was unchained first. Then it was Mike‘s turn. He expected them to be in a garage again. Possibly underground. What he didn‘t expect was for the air outside to be moving, almost like... wind. His feet touched grass. _Grass?_ He had never seen an outdoors execution on TV.

„Where-“

„Powell, help me with this!“ Hopper ordered. „Now hold still, kid. Gonna get these off of you.“ To Mike‘s immense surprise, the shackles on his ankles were undone. The same happened to his wrists, and soon he was free of any chains and cuffs, leaving only sore spots were they used to be for so many hours. „Okay, kid. There you go. You ready for this?“

„Ready for what?“ Mike temporarily forgot how to breathe when the hood was ripped off. He could _see_. He could _breathe._ It was night, but it was also very obvious that there were no walls, no barbed wire, no concrete and no gallows in sight. Just the vast expanse of a field under a dark sky. The rear lights of the van gave of a red glow that reflected on Hopper‘s and Powell‘s faces.

And there, right next to Mike, was Will. Now with a messy buzz cut, too many bruises on his face to count. But it _was_ Will. Mike just had to use this opportunity. They would probably pry them apart, shoot them to spare them the hanging. But he made a leap for Will, and got to touch him. Their combined sobs must have been audible for half a mile, but no one was there to hear.

„I love you, I love you, I _love you_.“ Will cried erratically.

When busted lips met busted lips, Mike was ready to die. He let himself fall to the ground together with Will, both of them able to feel the moist grass against their cheeks, able to breathe the fresh air for the first time in so many weeks. It was okay, because they were together. But no gunshots. No sudden terminal pain. Just Chief Hopper‘s voice. „You don‘t have much time. We can keep them off your backs for twenty-four hours, but you have to be long gone when they start looking for you.“

„W-What?“

„Jesus, you got brain damage? Look, we got you supplies, a map, clothes. Everything you need to make it to Canada. I‘m not gonna lie, these are gonna be the worst two hundred miles of your life. But you have to make it to Cheboygan. And you have to find Benny Hammond, you got it?“

„Cheboygan... Benny Hammond...“ Mike repeated. Did that mean they would get to live?

„Benny is a friend of mine. He‘ll get you to Canada with his boat. They‘ll grant you asylum. Full citizenship. Now strip.“

It was just too much information for Mike to take in. Canada. Two hundred miles. He looked into Will‘s eyes, finding them abused and tortured, but not broken, and he knew. He knew they could make it.

„For fuck‘s sake, get out of these overalls and put on the clothes I got you! We‘re wasting time!“

Mike was reluctant to let go of Will, but soon he scrambled out of the red prison overall, handed it to Hopper, and got everything he needed in return. Including a hat to hide his near-baldness.

„I have to admit...“ Hopper said while Mike and Will were getting dressed. „A lot could‘ve gone wrong with this plan. But you kids couldn‘t let go of each other, huh? Not even when it came to dying.“

„Never.“ Will said.

„And that‘s good. Those confessions got you together on the same transport. Now let me show you that map.“

* * *

„Mike... hey, Mike...“

„No. We can‘t fall asleep, Will.“ Both of them were weak. They had been starved on minimal rations a for weeks, not been allowed to exercise or even walk for that long. But they had to pull through. They had to keep going north. So rest was out of the question for now.

„That‘s not it.“ Will said, almost dreamily. And when Mike saw the stars reflecting in his friends‘ hazel eyes, he understood. He followed Will‘s gaze. „I haven‘t seen the sky in-“

„I know.“ Mike whispered. He knew so well. All those weeks in a little dark room, just the walls closing in, no wind, no warmth, no light, no Will. „I thought I‘d never see it again. I thought I‘d never... never see _you_ again.“ Well hidden in a thick patch of woods, stopping for just a minute to admire the sight seemed safe enough, so Mike offered Will a granola bar from the bag Hopper had given them.

„We can‘t possibly make it in one night.“ Will said while chewing.

„No. But we have to get as far as we can before they start looking.“ Mike returned. „Once they‘re after us we need to find shelter during the day and only move at night.“

„Do you think they‘ll make such a big deal out of two runaway fags?“ Exhausted, Will sunk against a tree.

Mike sat down next to him, pressing a kiss behind his ear. „Brenner might. I think it‘s a personal thing for him. And you know, this-“ Mike pulled out the revolver the chief hat put in the bag. „This isn‘t to defend ourselves.“

„We won‘t let it come to that.“ Will said with grim resolve. „Not after everything we‘ve been through. As far as I‘m concerned, it‘s not a question _if_ we make it. Just how long it takes. Come on. We have to keep going.“

Mike gobbled down the last piece of his granola bar, and then they helped each other up. „Will?“ he whispered. „I‘d do it all again. If I had to, I‘d face Brenner in that little room again, and I wouldn‘t do anything different.“

„And if you... if you could go back to kindergarten... would you ask me again?“

Mike took Will‘s hand. „Would you say _yes_ again?“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hehe, did you really believe I was going to kill them? OK, I have done some pretty bad things to Mike and Will before, but in a Byler constellation, I can't have them die. Let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something of an afterthought to this story. I originally wanted the fic to end with these letters, but it felt like they would have thrown the whole thing off balance. Still, it felt bad letting them go to waste, so here you go.
> 
> Among the things Mike and Will got from Hopper was an envelope marked as confidential, that the censors wouldn't be allowed to open if it was sent to Hopper. Mike and Will use it to each send a letter to their families, through Chief Hopper.
> 
> I just felt it would be interesting and maybe worthwhile to see how things turn out for the two, and how they handle their new life in safety.

Mom,

Jonathan,

I think this is my ~~third~~ fourth attempt writing this letter. And the last one took me more hours than I‘d like to admit. I know, I‘m sorry. I guess I‘ll have to apologize to Mrs. Wheeler too, because we only have this one confidential envelope right now, and Mike is waiting for me to finally get this done. No pressure, though. He understands. ~~I can only apol~~ I know the last months must have been scary, but again, there‘s only one secure envelope and we had to make sure to have our situation sorted out before we try to get in touch. You know, if they had caught us they would‘ve made a big show out of it. ~~Probably the most heavily advertised public execution since~~ They would‘ve shown us on TV. I hope you could keep that in mind and didn‘t worry too much.

 ~~Me and Mike~~ Mike and I decided it would be best not to let his family know where exactly we are. Just in case his dad gets his hands on the letter. We don‘t know if there‘s anything he could do, so call it paranoia if you want. We live a few miles outside of Edmonton, and ~~it‘s OK~~ it would be nice of you to tell Mrs. Wheeler this if you get a chance. It was a lot of paperwork, but we are citizens of the Commonwealth now. Even emancipated, so we have to answer to no one anymore. I suppose I don‘t need to tell you how good that feels. A year ago I would‘ve been afraid of the crushing responsibilities, but how things change, right? People have even stopped asking why we‘re all alone, without our parents.

 ~~Maybe it‘s not glamorous~~ We‘re both clerks now. Mike found work at a hardware store, and I stack shelves at a convenience store. Basically like Melvald‘s. ~~Just with the largest variety of maple syrup you‘ll ever see.~~ We also get a few Dollars a month from a refugee fund until we‘re 18.

I know how to live on a small wage (not your fault!), so I‘m trying to teach Mike a thing or two. In the end we really can‘t complain. We have enough to afford an apartment, and since there aren‘t any truly bad neighborhoods here, we‘re safe. It‘s hard to describe if you‘ve only ever known the states, but imagine a place where you don‘t have to be afraid. Whatever you say or whatever you are, the worst people can do is look at you weird. No FMA. No disappearances in the middle of the night.

We‘re also ~~getting better~~ healing OK. Physically, I mean. ~~After they had~~ In my previous attempts for this letter, I made the mistake of writing about what they did to us. I realize now that I shouldn‘t, and that you don‘t need to know. Just know that it was nothing permanent, and we‘ll be back to full health very soon. After a few weeks I could start drawing again, and I‘m getting so good at it that I‘ve started to sell some pictures as postcards for a few dollars. It‘s just that we ~~often~~ sometimes have a hard time dealing with the memories. We sleep with the lights on. We leave the bedroom door open a crack. And I‘m just telling you this because I need you to know how well Mike takes care of me, but when I can‘t stand it (I mean in the middle of the night) and when I can‘t sleep, he takes every blanket we have. Every last one of them, and he puts them on top of me. And then he lies on top of that, and he doesn‘t even mind if he loses sleep while I get to rest. You know, I‘d be lucky if I could give back half of what he does for me. I‘m trying. ~~Who knows~~ I‘m pretty sure it‘ll get better over time, so please don‘t fret too much about ~~me~~ us.

There isn‘t much else to say other than I love you. And I miss you both so much. I don‘t know if it‘s too much to ask of you (maybe you‘re still under surveillance and can‘t leave?), so I guess I‘ll just make it a proposal: You could come join us up here. I hope it goes without saying that we‘d love to have you here. But if this would put you in any sort of danger, stay where you are. I know we‘ll meet again one way or another, and if it takes ten years. Until then I‘ll be thinking about you.

Love  
Will

PS: It was all worth it. So please don‘t think there‘s anything I regret. To end on a positive note... we have a wood stove! I know having otherwise no heating might seem like a downside, but I‘ve always wanted a wood stove. And it‘s already getting cold enough at night for us to use it. I think it will be a comfy winter.

* * *

* * *

Will has just spent three hours trying to find the right words to write to his family - but he found it too gruesome, so he burned the whole thing and went to bed. He‘ll start over tomorrow, and you know, he asked me if I know what to write. The answer is yes, I do know. But this is for your eyes, and Will won‘t ask any further questions. He knows it would make him sad... So here goes-

Mom, I‘m alive. Obviously. Both of us are, and we‘ve made it to Canada, where we‘ll stay. So it‘s been a few months, but I‘m sure you were aware that we‘re not dead, I mean, the media circus died down pretty quickly and without result - silence is usually a good sign, isn‘t it? ~~I‘m glad to tell you~~ So I‘m glad we‘ve made it here - wherever _here_ is. I‘m not telling you that. Not because I don‘t trust _you_... It‘s because of dad.

You see, the last couple of months were a good opportunity to think. My job at a hardware store isn‘t exactly demanding on the brain, so reflecting has become my number one pastime. And the more I think about it, the more I ~~believe to know~~ have to come to the conclusion, that it was his fault. Of course, I‘ll probably never truly know. And I‘m not ready to tell Will of my suspicion, but I‘m telling you. In case you don‘t already know (please say you don‘t!)

 ~~Ever since~~ For as long as I can remember, dad was always looking at Will like something was wrong with him. I mean, the memories of our first play dates are hazy at best, but then first grade... second grade... up and beyond middle school... dad never liked Will. There was no way for him to know what Will meant to me, only that we were unusually close. But that would mean he acted on suspicion alone. Infinitely worse, ~~if you ask me~~. Go ahead, look him in the eyes and ask him if he reported us to the FMA. And then read that next part out loud to him and watch closely what happens. (I‘m not ~~fishing for pity~~ trying to be dramatic, I‘m just stating the facts.)

Two and a half months. Ten weeks. That‘s how long they had us. I was always cold for that long. I got to eat a bowl of _whatever that gray gunk was_ once a day, I got to piss in a drain in the floor and ask permission to take a shit. And when Brenner didn‘t need me for his sick games, it was like being stored in a little dark box. Like a toy. I never knew what day it was, or what time. If you‘re constantly in the dark, you can‘t even tell if you‘re awake or sleeping, did you know that? You start talking to yourself, you start to see things. And do you know how long it takes for fingernails to grow back? It‘s been three months, and they‘re about halfway back. Every few hours or so they came to beat me for the fun of it. When we got here I had three broken ribs. Will had five. You don‘t want to find out how much that hurts when the adrenaline wears off. And finally, do you know what it feels like to love someone so much that you sign away your life for them?

I‘m really not sure what I‘m supposed to believe, mom. But if it was dad, and if ~~you were a part of it~~ knew in advance... and if you just let them take me... don‘t even try to contact me. ~~I know you don‘t want to hear this~~ Regardless, what I know is that you‘re not like Brenner. So you‘ll believe me when I say I love Will so much I would die for him. As far as we‘re concerned, _we died for each other_. But we should‘ve never been put to the test.

Mom, when I think of you it makes me bitter. It‘s unfair to tell you this, but every time they came for me I imagined it would be you. But it never was, and I kept asking myself why you wouldn‘t help me. Some nights, when I can‘t sleep because I‘m afraid to close my eyes, Will has to spend an hour just describing our bedroom to me, over and over until I‘m asleep.

I‘m sorry. I never meant to make you feel bad. You couldn‘t have done anything, and I don‘t even _really_ believe you knew what was going to happen. What I want you to know is that you‘re welcome here with us. Nancy and Holly too. I can never come back (I‘ll never want to come back), so I‘ll just have to keep on missing you until we get to meet again.

Love  
Mike

PS: In the end, writing this turned out harder than I thought. I‘m already feeling a bit better, and maybe... given some more time... I think I should write it all down. Every horrible detail of it, and not just for my own sake. More people need to know what the _greatest nation in the world_ is really like. I could help find the cracks. And then we‘d just need a big enough chisel.


End file.
